Deposited Truth
by Anna Fugazi
Summary: What are you, but the sum of your memories? Can you figure it out?


Summary: What are you, but the sum of your memories? Can you figure it out?

Disclaimer: If CC & Co. finally get their act together and make the second X-Files movie, they can sue me to oblivion. Granted, all they'll really get is overpriced fandom memorabilia.

The plush blood-red carpet sucks her heels into the floor as she enters through monogrammed doors. A suited blur sideswipes her as he runs to assist an old woman dripping in pearls. A harassed looking red-headed man, bearing resemblance to a wet dog, carrying an umbrella and bags, follows the lady inside. The real canine, however, swathed in a blanket, resides under the iron embrace of the dame's wiry arm. An agitated conversation follows.

"What do you mean he cannot stay in my room? He's more civilized than…"

A flourish of her arm follows, as if to illustrate that the mahogany detailed lobby is an inadequate dwelling for her most beloved pet. The Pekingese, yapping in concurrence, is seemingly offended by his pariah label.

The woman's observations cause her to walk backwards into the bellhop. He looks down at her amused.

"Can I help you Miss?"

A timid smile is returned.

"Yes, the elevators?"

He gestures towards gilded doors on the other side of the lobby with his gloved hands.

"Thank you."

She enters, forcing the doors closed while the red-headed man runs across the lobby pleading for her to wait. A fleeting smirk passes over her face as the doors slam shut, fading as the capsule begins to rise. As the elevator stops she almost falls from the lack of propulsion. Her ears pop as the doors ping her arrival.

Glancing down at the scribbled number on the piece of loose-leaf, which has grown moist with sweat in her hand, she walks down the hall. She feels faint as she knocks at the door. The lamp on the table next to the entrance flickers as her fist makes contact.

A muffled, "Enter!"

The room is dark, the green curtains are drawn closed and collecting dust, and the bed is unused. A man is seated at the table. He blinks myopically behind his wire rims. The whites of his eyes are an interesting shade of pink surrounding a watery blue. If he was so inclined to shake his head she was positive a mauve color would appear. It seemed, to her, that his brittle neck would snap if such an action were attempted.

A smirk appears on his lips. It widens into a grin when her disdain is discerned.

"It's so nice to see you. I hope everything is alright wi–"

"Oh, cut the crap." She issues the statement with as much venom as possible.

"So, what did you wish to speak to me about?"

His voice comes out as a hollow wind, a gasp and wheeze follow each word. He punctuates the silence by lighting a cigarette.

"I want it back."

Silence.

A puff of smoke.

"Why now? I assumed you would consider it a debridement."

"I realized my mistake." A moment of silence and then, "You said, 'Nothing can seem foul to those that win'. I see that now. You won. I'm sick of my choice."

A harsh laugh erupts into a hacking cough. She shivers.

"So now you see your weakness? It was always present, you know. You cannot change your decision without paying your debt."

Another cough. A napkin brought to his lips reveals a splattering of yellow and red. The chair releases an audible creak at the same time laughter erupts from the other side of the wall. Her perfect posture cannot hide her wince.

"What would I have to do? The operation–"

"Changed nothing. What you _think_ you lost is merely a highly orchestrated facade presented to you to hide our true capabilities…and yours."

She jumps to her feet, hands hitting the table. A glass falls and smashes. He still doesn't move.

"You evil sonofab—"

"There's nothing evil about it, we were merely protecting our assets. It is simply business."

The last part of the phrase is hissed and a stream of smoke clouds his face. He is a figure of shadows, deceiving with smoke and mirror simplicity. Another drag is taken as his next proclamation is barked in a rasp.

"Of course, your compliance must be guaranteed to the fullest extent. You no longer have anything to gamble with. You come crawling back with nothing. Desperation has its benefits."

"You knew that this would happen." It is a statement, not a question. Her words hold scathing sarcasm. "Are you searching for compliments?"

"We gave you a life back…you should be thankful."

"This isn't life; it's a mockery of what I had."

"How would you know?"

"I can sense it."

"Really…give me the name then."

Silence. More laughter follows from the other side of the wall. The distinct pop of a champagne bottle can be discriminated.

Her posture crumples.

"I don't know…"

"We cannot be of assistance until that is realized. We can only direct, you know the stakes if our compliance is revealed."

"What can you offer me?"

"What can you give _me_?"

"I have nothing to give without your assistance."

"I know. _We_ know. You have just realized it. My plan succeeded."

A grotesque smile contorts his wrinkled sagging face. He clasps his hands together, throwing his head back with mirth, rejoicing in his success. The breeze created brushes the stale air across her face. She doesn't wince now.

"Its time to deal."

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"If you would just follow me I'll direct you."

"That would be fine. You can get lost back here, it's a labyrinth."

His chuckle reverberates in the corridor.

"Lucky you have me."

"Yes."

The click of her heels echoes off the tile floors and steel paneled walls.

He continues. His starched suit rustles as he walks.

"We have one of the best security systems in the world. Our motto is, 'If you can't keep them out, you keep them in'. If any disturbance is detected, steel bars will snap across all the entrances. By the way, don't touch the walls, it will initiate lock-down, which takes hours to correct. Even if it's me."

He laughs good-naturedly, obviously taking pride in his position.

"No, we wouldn't want to trap anyone," she responds in a smooth voice.

He continues.

"Once I retrieve your box, I will give you 30 minutes to examine the contents alone. There is a table and chair provided. Just ring if you need anything else."

"Mmm."

A retina scan greets them at a convex section of wall. A key and code are entered. A dull series of explosions are heard within as a crevasse appears.

"I'll be back in a half an hour, Ma'am."

"Yes."

His shoes echo his retreat and a door shuts in the background. She stands, staring for interminable minutes. With shaking hands and a measured gait she slowly approaches. The shelf slides out easily under her manipulations. Holding her breath she peers inside. Her palpitating heartbeat keeps tempo in her ears, constantly reassuring her of her life. Reaching inside, her hand swipes air. A shaky breath is expelled. Trailing her fingers through the thin layering of dust at the bottom she feels a shift, revealing a single sheet of paper. She picks it up and reads:

_42 Hegal Place_

_Alexandria, VA_

Tears blur her eyes. It was a place to start.


End file.
